


Lightness

by simplesetgo



Category: Legend of the Seeker
Genre: Anal Sex, Multi, Reluctant Cuddling, Threesome - F/F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-09
Updated: 2012-04-09
Packaged: 2017-11-03 08:05:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,688
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/379173
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/simplesetgo/pseuds/simplesetgo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post-Tears, our dynamic trio find themselves appreciating the smaller things, and also boning a lot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lightness

This isn’t what Cara was expecting.

After muzzling the Keeper and locking him back inside his cage (as she knew they would), she expected her companions to grow lax and lazy, drunk on their success.

But their nightly sparring sessions to pick watches continued, maybe even intensified (she let Kahlan win often; Richard, not so much). And a Seeker without a quest, Cara learned, is a grouchy Seeker. So she found their pace slowed as they trekked their way back across the Midlands, but only just. (It didn’t hurt that their wizard was paying Shota a visit on his own, leaving the three of them to make their way to Aydindril without stopping twelve times a day to eat.)

Also, there's the sex.

****

Kahlan fills the waterskins by a rushing stream, crystal clear as it flows over dark rock. Its banks are blanketed by soft, green grass, and a breeze in the trees above sends shadows dancing through fading sunlight on the ground around her. She takes her time, as is their luxury now. She’d forgotten there was beauty in the forest, in the wild, maybe even the world, in the last harrowing days of their quest.

A smile lifts the corners of her mouth as she nears the camp. She hasn’t been gone long, it seems, but it was long enough for Cara to get out of her leathers. Still hidden somewhat in the thick woods, Kahlan takes a step back regardless, quietly dropping the skins to her feet and leaning against an old birch tree to watch.

She’s close enough to see the expressions of the lovers in the open grove, Richard’s focused exertion and Cara’s slack-jawed pleasure. They’re fit together on their sides on a bedroll, the Mord-Sith firmly in her Lord Rahl’s embrace as he thrusts. Always the thoughtful lover, he has a hand reached between her legs. Kahlan watches Cara’s own hand claw and seize the bedroll beneath them with white knuckles.

Kahlan wonders how she could’ve ever doubted this. The first time she was terrified, afraid that seeing Richard with another would make her heart bitter and jealous—and morbidly curious if the opposite would hold true, given her newly accepted feelings for the blonde herself.

But watching them make love inspires nothing but contentedness, in its own way, and stirs nothing but desire between her own loins. She feels it now, but knows that she need not fear being ignored—even if Richard later claims exhaustion, as he sometimes does, Cara doesn’t know the meaning of the word, much less where lovemaking is concerned.

Kahlan wets her lips, drawing in breath as she watches Cara reach release. Lashes fluttering, her body tenses as Richard drives in deep, seating himself inside her and working furiously with his hand. She’s panting things Kahlan can’t hear, likely all sorts of obscenities judging from the sudden amused grin on Richard’s face.

Cara shifts a bit. Her cheeks and chest are rosy, sex flushed, her hair a mess, as she raises herself to hands and knees, leaning back and stretching. She teasingly shakes her backside at Richard as he lines up, and throws her head back as he thrusts back home. They were in evening’s cool shadow before, but now Richard’s upper half is illuminated by a streak of golden sunlight. Sweat glistens between his shoulder blades. Kahlan lets her eyes travel wantonly over the coupled pair—the dip in Cara’s spine, her breasts shaking as she rocks, Richard’s muscles working as he takes her for his own pleasure.

Richard’s grip on Cara’s backside tightens. Kahlan bites her lip in anticipation. He’s close, closer, taking her harder, and harder, the smack of their hips reaching a frenzied pace and there—with a cry of relief, he comes, holding Cara’s body to his. Kahlan reaches down and cups her own heated sex, just to slake the scorching need for contact there—but not without a furtive glance around her, first. Old habits are hard to break.

When she deems she can walk without trying to squeeze her thighs together, she takes the waterskins into the camp. Richard and Cara have fallen back onto their sides, and she thinks they’re still coupled—sometimes Cara likes that, staying full after she’s come.

“You watched, didn’t you?” Cara accuses playfully, raising herself on an arm. Richard follows suit, since he can’t see her otherwise, brow raised in interest. Kahlan merely smiles her secretive smile and sets the skins down within her reach. Then she loosens and steps out of her skirt. Richard and Cara become a speechless audience as the rest of her clothing follows. She takes her time here, too, as is their luxury now, even teasing a bit, coyly pulling the strings of her corset free far slower than necessary. Once her breasts are freed to the night air, Cara smirking her approval, Richard finally speaks.

“Kahlan,” he says, “there’s a village only a couple leagues from here. Maybe you shouldn’t—”

“If a lone hunter wanders by,” Cara interrupts, “I will Agiel his eyes out before he can see her.”

“You will not,” chides Kahlan, finally slipping off her smallclothes. “The Mother Confessor is a woman still. Isn’t that what you two are always telling me?”

Cara’s gaze is fixed on her sex, and Richard’s on her breasts. Kahlan wonders if she’s supposed to feel insulted, but it feels flattering if anything. She reclines in front of Cara, drawing the blonde into an open-mouthed kiss. She tastes Richard there, on Cara’s tongue, and knows his manhood was coaxed to fullness by the same. “He’s still inside you, isn’t he?” she breathes against Cara’s lips. Cara only moans, eyes sliding shut as Richard answers her with two slow thrusts and a smile.

“How’d you know?” he asks. “We could’ve just been cuddling.”

“True,” Kahlan allows. “A lucky guess, I suppose.”

“I am Mord-Sith,” Cara protests. “Mord-Sith do not cuddle.”

“Not ever?” says Kahlan. She presses herself close, bodily trapping Cara between herself and Richard. With another kiss, Cara melts against Kahlan, moaning into her mouth. Kahlan moves her head to her shoulder, where Cara’s hot breath lands as she kisses the skin there instead.

Kahlan smiles at Richard. He laughs, for no real reason. “Hello, you,” he says, and pulls her into his own kiss. It’s like every other they’ve shared before, seemingly countless, but somehow…fuller. It shouldn’t be possible that bringing Cara into their love strengthened their own, but it’s happening anyway.

Richard finally breaks their kiss, then winks and nods to the comatose Mord-Sith beneath them. Kahlan nods in turn. They take a breath, then cry together, “Cuddle trap!”

Cara explodes, limbs flailing, but Richard and Kahlan hold on tightly to each other, grinning furiously. Three pairs of legs tangle, and Cara pants as she strains to free herself. “This doesn’t count,” she growls against Kahlan’s breast, still squirming. “Cruel torturers!”

“Admit it,” Richard laughs. “Sometimes, Mord-Sith cuddle.”

“Not ever,” says Cara, voice muffled. She stills. Richard and Kahlan wait. They know her tricks. Sure enough, a moment later she pushes at them and nearly gets free, but Richard’s muscled arms keep her down. Kahlan can feel him pressing strong at the hips, too, and knows he’s still buried in her. He must still be hard as rock, she thinks.

“Never?” Kahlan says softly to Cara. She makes her voice sound just a bit hurt. “Not even for me?”

Cara is silent for a moment. “Fine, sometimes,” she says exasperatedly. “There. I said it.”

“Sometimes what?” says Richard.

Kahlan knows not to press her, though, and separates herself a bit. Cara relaxes once more, but her bottom lip stays set. She glares at Kahlan.

To this, Kahlan smiles sweetly, and sends a hand down between Cara’s legs. “I love you,” she says softly, as she fingers the hardened nub at Cara’s sex. “I love Cara Mason, the Mord-Sith, with all my heart.”

“That doesn’t make any sense,” Cara mutters. “You tell him that, too. You can’t have two whole…”

“It’s the heart,” Richard says. “It’s not supposed to make sense.”

Cara ponders this, during which time Kahlan’s hand wanders further. She finds Cara’s sex soaked, but absent Richard’s manhood. “I thought you were still…coupled,” Kahlan says, slipping fingers into her heated center.

Cara grins a devilish grin. Richard ducks behind her. Kahlan blanches. “We are,” the Mord-Sith says.

Kahlan pulls her hand back as if stung. “You could’ve warned me!” she snaps at them.

Cara rolls her eyes. “It’s just anal sex.”

“Which she happens to really, really like,” Richard puts in.

“Still,” Kahlan huffs. “Some of us are neither male nor Mord-Sith.”

“You just wait,” Cara purrs. She’s using _that_ voice, and then: “I’ll have you taking Richard’s cock balls deep in your perfect Mother Confessor ass before you know it. And you’ll love it. Just like you loved it when Richard held you down and I fucked you so hard with my Agiel you passed out after coming, what, three times?”

Richard groans and thrusts jerkily. Kahlan blushes hot and fast, and tosses a water skin and rag at them. “Not ever,” she says.

Cara pouts, eyes dancing. “Not even for me?”

****

The moon keeps Richard company. The sky is clear, and the only threat is the inevitable boredom that comes with the middle watch. No sunset, no sunrise, just…hours and hours of dark.

The glowing embers of the night’s fire just illuminate the women sleeping by it. He smiles fondly, thinking if Cara could see herself she’d pitch a fit. She’s wrapped around Kahlan, her blonde head resting in the curve of Kahlan’s neck. They look peaceful, carefree—and Richard takes a moment to appreciate that, as is his luxury, now. Kahlan’s face now is a far cry from earlier—pleasure-wracked with Cara’s head between her long, spread legs.

Tomorrow is another day. Another day of walking forest trails (when they’re lucky), crossing streams, navigating ravines—all things Richard greatly enjoys, and the women pretend not to mind. Tomorrow is another day with them by his side, and nothing matters more.


End file.
